


No Control

by provocation



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/provocation/pseuds/provocation
Summary: “Fuck. You’re the worst person on the face of the planet.”Even like this, Josh is quick to retort, “I’m not the one who gets a boner whenever I joke about taking you under the bleachers.”“I wish you would drop dead right now.”“That makes two of us, baby.”In which Josh is a reprobate and Mike has bad taste.





	No Control

It starts as all great love stories do; with one person making out with someone else while their inevitable soulmate talks to a mutual acquaintance about fingerblasting.

"Huh," says Mike, and the girl whose lips he says it into mistakes it for a moan, which is definitely his fault. She presses closer, but Mike's attention has been pulled away like a baby mouse swooped up by a hawk. He pushes her shoulders gently, and she reluctantly detaches her lips, aiming a disappointed glare his way that goes entirely unnoticed.

"What's up?" she asks, voice thick from want and weed. Mike pays her no heed, looking in the direction of the aforementioned hawk. The offender is perched on top of the couch with one leg squished behind Matt and the other draped over his shoulder. Matt seems to have a steadfast disinterest in whatever Josh is chattering about, attention solely focused on the controller in his hands and the television in front of him. Josh's shirt is a little too small for him, and his face is a little too rosy to suggest that the solo cup in his hand is his first drink.

There's no good way to yell "why were you talking about fingerblasting just now" across a party, not even when you're on opposite ends of the same couch. Mike stays silent.

Josh continues, saying something indecent about meaty thighs and crooked glasses, and Mike strains to try and hear. The girl on top of him carefully moves a long curl of red hair behind her ear, following Mike's gaze and leaning closer to him. His foot is pressed against Matt's thigh, and Mike wonders why it took him this long to notice. He wonders why Matt hasn't said anything. He stares, dumbstruck, at Josh's bare skinny ankle hanging over Matt's abdomen. The girl speaks, breath warm against his cheek. "Is that your friend? Does he wanna join?"

"No," Mike mumbles into her neck, obligingly kissing her like you would kiss a rabbit's foot— it's the thing to do. "No to both."

"Maybe we should take this somewhere more," the girl begins, and Mike never finds out if she's going to say _private_ because she is interrupted mid-sentence by Matt's sudden laugh as Josh grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks on it.

"Oh," says Mike, as he watches Matt laugh and Josh moan, dramatic and false but _loud_.

"Oh, Matt," says Josh, throwing his head back and thrusting his hips against the back of Matt's neck. "Oh, Matt, oh, Matt. Press X to fuck, Matt!"

"Oh," says the girl sitting on top of Mike, as they both feel a rush of blood flood through his veins. His dick jolts suddenly in his jeans, and Mike can feel his face flush bright red.

"You're an idiot," says Matt, because he's the only one of them with any sense. He still laughs anyway, shoving Josh's leg off him so Josh nearly falls off the back of the couch. "Stop distracting me from my game, bro."

Josh gets to his feet slowly, grinning like the Cheshire fucking cat, and flicks Matt in the back of the ear. "You sound just like Chris," he taunts, launching into his best impression of his best friend. "Don't, bro! I'm playing GTA! I don't wanna talk about sex, I'm too busy stealing this cop car!"

"I am busy stealing this cop car," Matt points out.

"Hey," the girl whispers in his ear. Mike really needs to try and remember her name, but it just isn't coming to him right now. "I'm getting mixed signals here, baby."

"So is my brain," Mike whispers, and then turns and kisses her before either of them can question it. They start making out again, and it's just distracting enough to almost steal his attention away from Josh. Her hair is falling over his shoulder, and her mouth tastes really, really nice. She rolls her hips against his very interested dick again, and Mike hears the sound of an X-Box powering down.

"Better give them some privacy, I guess," Matt mutters, sounding annoyed. Mike can't really find it in himself to care. "Even though this is my house."

"Relax, Mike's a gentleman and a scholar," Josh says, almost out of earshot. "I'm sure he knows how to treat a lady. I mean, talk about fingerblasting—"

Josh shuts the door behind him and Matt, and Mike comes in his pants.

 

 

It's not something he feels he has to address, mainly because the situation resolved itself that very night. The girl, whose name was eventually revealed and then forgotten, was flattered by her own sexual prowess. Mike has no desire to dissuade her of the notion. He ended up stealing a pair of Matt's underwear and jeans, bunching up the dirty pair in his backpack, and whispering a silent prayer that no one would ask to borrow a pencil on his way out of the party. (No one had.)

When Mike returns the dry-cleaned clothes to Matt, he is met with a grimace and a kind but firm refusal.

"You were pretty drunk, dude," Matt says in response to Mike's apology, shaking his head and waving his hands. "You probably even don't remember what happened, right? I know I was wasted."

"Yeah," Mike replies, sucking his tongue between his teeth and biting it as he nods. He definitely doesn't remember Josh's voice making him come on the spot. He totally hasn't jerked off three times since the party to the image of Josh sitting on his shoulders and sucking him off. He jerks off to normal teenage things like porn, not half-baked memories of curly black hair. "It's all a blur."

Josh doesn't address it at all, so maybe there really is a God. The next interaction they have is a high-stakes dodgeball game in gym class, and Mike is bracing himself the whole time for the interrogation. " _When did you figure out you were gay?_ " Josh-in-his-head demands. " _When was the first time you wanted to suck me off?_ "

But Josh is either a very tactful telepath or not psychic at all, so Mike's secret stays safe as he ducks under a high throw from Sam. The ball bounces away somewhere behind him, and in the split second that he's turned around to pick it up, another ball slams into the back of his head.

"Haha!" Josh crows, triumphant. "Blow me, Michael!"

The expletive garners a few cheers and laughs from their class, including Chris' groan and Jessica’s cackle. Mike is too busy trying to ignore how he's suddenly gone half-hard in his gym shorts to react properly, so he just lobs the ball aimlessly towards someone and walks off the court.

As he pulls his pinnie over his head and does his best to cover his dick with the red mesh fabric, Mike is struck by the sudden thought that this is most likely not the typical teenage gay experience. He nods to one of his friends who has also been struck out, and gestures towards the bathroom with a jerk of his thumb. "I'll be back."

"Okay," his friend nods, suspecting nothing. Mike blinks, gives him a banal smile, and then goes to the showers and jerks off as quickly as he possibly can. He makes record time, and whether or not he imagines Josh walking in on him the whole time is his business.

 

 

He's reorganizing his locker when he hears a whistle from the other side of the door, and Mike respectfully elects to completely ignore it.

"Wow," drawls a voice, intent on not being ignored. Mike stays ignorant, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper he'd meant to throw away months ago. He tosses it towards the garbage can, hoping to make it obvious he's busy.

"Did you see that?" asks the voice, right as the paper bounces off the garbage can's rim. He prays that it's a comment on his shitty throwing skills until: "I can't believe her mother let her leave the house like that."

Curiosity finally wins, and Mikes gives up and slams the locker door shut. "Whose mother?" he demands of Josh, who looks delighted by the question. "What are you talking about now?"

"Jeanie," Josh purrs, leaning against the wall of lockers. "Did you see what she was wearing?"

"I don't want to gossip with you about what Jeanie Simmons got away with wearing today," Mike lies, reopening his locker.

"Oh, whatever, Saint Michael," Josh scowls, and there's a pause before he continues. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I think it's a very good thing. Two very good things, actually."

"Cheese and crepes," Mike swears, staring into his locker and praying he drops through the floor straight into hell. He hates that even the stupid tone of voice Josh is using is _absolutely_ enough to get him going.

There is another brief pause, and then Josh slides around him so that he can move directly into Mike's line of sight, because of course he does, because Josh is the Antichrist and the universe wants Mike to be embarrassed and suffer. Mike is towering over him now, hand on the wall behind him; he can't think of a time they've ever been this close before. He stares longingly over Josh's shoulder at the textbook he'd been about to move, and he wonders how much trouble he'd get if he just stuck Josh into his locker and left him there for a few hours.

"I'm not a tits guy," Josh confides in Mike, like they're buddies or friends or have any sort of relationship that would necessitate Josh sharing this tidbit of information with him. Mike stares at Josh's mouth as he over-enunciates the consonants in _tits_ and wishes that the two of them were anywhere other than the hallway connecting the computer labs to the art room. "But Jeanie sure looks delicious. Wouldn't you kill for just two minutes alone with those nipples?"

Mike is but human. His eyes look down at Josh's chest and he blinks, rapid and obvious. "Uh," he stammers. He swears he used to be good at flirting before Josh came along and ruined his life.

"I'm sure you're the kind of guy who would love to suck on a pair of tits like that," Josh says, tongue flicking out after the word suck. "Am I right or am I right?"

What Michael thinks he means to say is 'stop interrogating me for your spank bank' or maybe 'go to church'. Instead, he takes a quick peek over his shoulder just to make sure Jeanie has walked away and that the hallway is empty, and then he presses into Josh with his whole body. Their knees and hips and chests and shoulders knock together, and Mike can feel Josh's sneaker pressing into the seam of his shoe. Josh lets out a soft, surprised sound, but doesn't move— Mike wants more than anything to swallow that noise with his mouth. "Stop talking so fucking filthy," he hears himself say, and Josh's throat bobs up and down like a buoy. "It's disgusting."

"You don't look disgusted," Josh parrots back without missing a beat, dark eyes flicking between his as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on. If he figures it out, he'd better tell Mike, because right now they're both lost. "You look the opposite of disgusted."

As if on cue the bell rings, and Mike jumps back from Josh, almost stumbling away. Reality comes crashing down, and he tries to reconcile what he just did with where they are, and who they are, and he fails to do so. Josh stays there, pressed against the wall exactly where Mike left him. Mike wonders where else he could put Josh and make him stay; the thought makes him shiver. "No I don't," he answers, attempting to summon his usual bravado. "I. No. You're being gross. You're being gross to women. It's rude."

They stare at each other as students filter out of classrooms all around them, carrying different bags and wearing different clothes and having different conversations. Mike wonders how he managed to let one of his least favourite people in this whole school get under his skin like no one else ever has his whole life. Josh's lips curl up into an uneasy smile, and he tells Mike the secret Mike has been keeping from everyone for weeks now. "But you liked it."

"I didn't," Mike says, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. He has so much energy he thinks he might implode.

Something in Josh's expression is so endearingly uncertain that Mike can't bring himself to walk away. His voice is soft and nervous and low, and it doesn't match the words he's saying at all. "You like it when I'm rude."

And now Mike is _sure_ his face is bright pink.

"I," he says, and thankfully he doesn't have to come up with a next word because Chris walks into their conversation, ending it immediately. Josh stares at him before turning to greet Chris, and his stare sticks with Mike even after he's turned away. He had looked puzzled and intrigued and entertained all at once. Mike wishes he wasn't as turned on as he is.

"Hey," says Chris, innocent and perfect. Mike's saviour, his white knight, his guardian angel. "I found this new mod we have to try out, Josh, it's so funny! I basically spent all class fucking around with it."

"Totally," Josh smiles; the snap back into casual conversation is nearly jarring. "Maybe Mike can come, and you can show him that mod that makes everyone in the game naked."

Mike says, "I have to go," and sprints away, leaving his locker unorganized and unlocked.

 

 

"You're sure it's okay you missed school?" Grace strokes his forehead, frowning slightly at the massive pile of blankets covering him up to his neck.

"Yeah," Mike breathes, and throws in an extra cough for good measure. He drank a glass of milk an hour ago, so his throat certainly sounds gross.

Grace might not be fooled, but she doesn't press him much more, just petting his hair gently. "I thought you were excited about that presentation today."

"I was," Mike groans, eyes sliding shut. Fuck. In an uncharacteristic turn of events, he had completely forgot about a presentation for class. His thoughts have been otherwise occupied since yesterday afternoon; he's starting to develop a one track mind. "They probably did it without me."

"Oh, honey," Grace sighs. "But you love group projects! They're your favourite thing about school."

"Ma! Shush!"

"It's true." A kiss is placed on his forehead, and then Grace stands up from his bedside. "My son is a nerd."

"Don't tell anyone," Mike threatens her, weak but serious. "I have a reputation to hold up."

"I would never." He cracks one eye open just in time to see her leaving his door ajar, and notices the glass of water on his bedside table. He really does have the best mom ever. Mike lets his eyes slide shut again and tries not to feel guilty about lying to her. It's not all false; he really does feel sick at the prospect of going back to school and dealing with what he said and did to Josh.

Josh constantly making innuendos and driving him crazy isn't Josh's fault at all. The blame is all on Mike; he's the one who needs to get himself together, and stop feeling hot every time Josh so much as swears. It's a ridiculous fascination to have, but he has no idea how to even begin to curb it. The first time he ever heard Josh talk about fingering someone, his fate was sealed. Now he's pretty sure he could hear just about any word come out of that mouth and it'd keep his head spinning all day.

And now Josh knows about it, so Mike can clearly never, ever talk to him again. He told Josh _to his face_ to stop talking 'so fucking filthy'. Who does that? He knows he's kind of an asshole sometimes, but that's unforgivable. Josh is never going to talk to him again, and for some reason that makes Mike feel powerfully sad about this whole thing. He'd rather they stay awkward friends forever and never bring it up than for anything to ever happen lest it go badly. The idea of not having Josh in his life makes his chest ache, like something is threatening to tear it apart. He might have serious feelings for that horrible, evil, mischievous little shit.

"Fuck me raw," Mike says, eyes closed and hands tangled up in the blankets. He shifts around to face the wall, hoping he can just clear his mind and fall asleep to escape all these big feelings.

His door swings open, and Mike burrows down into his blankets more. "Ma, if you have to go to work, just go," he mumbles, opening his eyes to stare at the wall. He really should paint some new colour in here; maybe that's what he'll spend his fake sick day doing instead of lying around feeling sorry for himself. "I can take care of myself."

There is a shuffling noise and his closet door opens and shuts, and then a voice that is distinctly _not_ his mother's answers him. "Clearly you can't, judging by the state of your room. And here I thought Chris was a slob."

Mike rolls over so fast he nearly falls off his bed, and manages to get all his limbs tangled up in the blankets. Josh is standing by the door to his room, staring at him shamelessly. Josh has one eyebrow raised, and his deep-set eyes are searching Mike's for something unknown. _Josh is in his bedroom_ , with a perfect view of his Die Hard poster and his unmade _bed_.

"What are you doing here?" Mike demands, too quick and defensive, and then remembers too late that he's supposed to be sick. He adds, hoarser, "Did you... come to check up on me?"

"Yes," Josh says, clearly unimpressed. "Your mom let me in. She seems pretty convinced that you're under the weather, but you look alright to me." He kicks a pile of shirts out of the way, and shame wells up in Mike's chest. "What's got you down, Ferris?"

"Ha ha," Mike frowns. "Just a cold."

"A cold?" Taking a step over a stack of DVD's, Josh comes to sit beside him on the bed. Mike thinks he might have a stroke. "Let me take a look." His fingers brush across Mike's cheek and forehead, and his expression narrows into something unreadable. "You feel pretty hot to me."

Mike doesn't know what to say to that, given that not seeing Josh was his sole reason for staying home today. He stays silent for once, just watching Josh and waiting for him to make a move or something. Finally, Josh brushes Mike's hair back in a gesture that could be construed as resigned or affectionate, and he sighs.

"I came to check up on you because Hannah was worried," he explains, and that really shouldn't make Mike feel as disappointed as it does. He tries to hide his reaction, shoving off his blankets. Josh doesn't say anything about his lack of shirt and unfashionable sweatpants, although Mike is sure he'll catch hell for it later. "She said you were looking forward to your group project the most out of everyone. She said group projects are your fave."

"... I have no idea where she got that from."

"She said you told your group." Josh looks up at the ceiling, and Mike recognizes his expression; it's a face he's seen Emily pull many a time. "Mike, she was... she was really worried. I don't know if you've cottoned on to this yet, but she's got a thing for you."

Frozen in place as Josh suddenly looks at him, Mike struggles to maneuver his face into a more appropriate look of surprise. "Hannah? Me?"

"Shut up, dude, I know you know," Josh shoves his shoulder. "Everyone knows. I just... she's my sister, and I don't want to see her sad, even if— well, whatever, I just..."

As he drifts off a sadness passes over his face, and Mike watches as he blinks and glances down at the bed. It seems imperative that Mike say something, but he doesn't really understand what's wrong, so he just gnaws at his lip for a second; and then it hits him.

"I'm not sick," he blurts out, grabbing Josh's arm to get his attention.

Josh's startled look twists into annoyed confusion. "Then why the fuck didn't–"

"You're why the fuck I didn't go to school," Mike says. His face instantly burns with embarrassment, but he soldiers on. "I didn't want to see you after what happened with us."

Josh slouches, and when he speaks, his voice is very quiet and small. "Oh."

"No, I," Mike stammers, desperate to get this right. "Fuck. It's, uh, it's not you. It's me. I shouldn't have said all that stuff about you when you were just joking around." He breathes in sharply. "I took it too far because you drive me crazy, and I don't know what to do about it, and I just— it's just— it's a lot to handle, Josh, and I've never dealt with this shit before!"

Thankfully, Josh seems to understand on some level what Mike is implying, or maybe he's just remembering being shoved up into a locker. He closes his eyes for a moment, and Mike is about ready to speak and say he was just kidding when Josh says, "You stayed home because of me."

"Yeah, that's what I just said," Mike huffs, embarrassed.

"Because you didn't want to see me."

"No—"

"Because you were worried about what you would do."

Mike shakes his head. "I was worried about what you would say."

Josh's hand has been curled around the edge of the bed frame for almost this whole conversation, and when he finally lets go, Mike releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. "You," Josh starts, "are a fucking dumbass."

"I know," Mike says, miserable.

"You could have just said something about the jokes if they were affecting you that much."

"I know."

"If I knew they turned you on I would have talked like that around you all the time."

"I– _whoa—_ " Mike's jaw falls open, and he stares at Josh, dumbstruck. "You-you would've?"

"Uh, yeah." A slow grin spreads over Josh's face. It's a look Mike has only seen a few times before, usually right before something very bad happens. "I had no idea it turned you on so much to hear about me wanting to suck titties."

"Jesus tandem chricycle," Mike swears, and reaches for the blanket so he can stick his head under it and suffocate to death.

Josh grabs his hand and holds it against the mattress, smile spread from cheek-to-cheek. He looks sort of radiant. "You want me to suck your titties, Michael? Would that get you going?"

Mike rolls his eyes, secretly grateful Josh can't see his toes curling under the end of the blanket pile. "No, I want you to suck my whole dick, actually," he grouses, flipping Josh off with his free hand.

"I could probably manage that," Josh says, and suddenly the air is thick and his hand is warm against Josh's. Mike's instinct is to tug his palm away and make a joke or just to kick Josh out point-blank but he ignores what his brain is telling him to do, staring at Josh. It's a cool day outside and his window is cracked open, but regardless Mike feels muggy and hot all over, and he can't seem to think straight. Maybe he actually does have a fever.

Finally, Mike somehow finds the ability to whisper, "You... could manage that? Do you think?" His voice is low, nervous, and almost ashamed.

"Yeah," Josh says, at full uncaring volume. "I could probably give you a hummer right now if you wanted one." His eyes are twinkling, and he swallows, slow and purposeful. Mike watches the line of his neck move and can't remember what year it is.

"You could lock the door," Mike says. It comes out with a nervous laugh. He's never been this nervous before anything, let alone sex. His dick is _rock solid_. "If you wanted to."

"Great idea," Josh praises him, and drops his hand on the bed after squeezing it. Mike kicks all the blankets off the bed as Josh walks to the door and locks it, and he tries to vanquish the fear in his chest before Josh returns to his side. "I wouldn't want your sweet old ma to see me playing your skin flute."

"Ew," Mike laughs, "what?!"

"Bobbing on your knob," Josh amends, sinking to his knees in front of Mike. Mike's heart is going a mile a minute. Josh puts his palms on Mike's knees, and licks his lips. "Smoking your Johnson."

"Fuck." Mike is not a religious man, but he sends a brief and silent prayer to thank Hannah for her concern; then he stops thinking about Hannah altogether as Josh yanks on his sweatpants and pulls out his dick with one hand. " _Fuck_."

"Does it feel like your hand? Mine aren't as big," Josh says, because apparently he never shuts up, ever, not even when there's a dick in his hand, "but I know how to use 'em."

"Stop running your mouth and put it in drive, asshole," Mike groans, rolling his head back as far as he can while watching Josh. It's impossible to tear his eyes away from the view of Josh's fingers curled around his cock.

"I thought you liked me running my mouth," Josh whines, even giving a little pout. Mike's hips skid up into his touch at the sight. "My filthy fuckin’ mouth."

"Josh," Mike pleads, voice garbled. "Please, Josh. Fuck."

And there's that mischievous look again. "Please _what_ , Michael?"

"Please," Mike starts, and finds he can't finish. He reaches forward to grab Josh, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt until they're close enough that he can smash their mouths together. It's awkward and rough and ragged and it's the best kiss Mike has ever had in his whole life. Josh kisses back like he's hungry for it, and just the thought of that makes his dick jump in Josh's hand.

Josh mumbles something against his lips but Mike is done with innuendo leading nowhere; he wants to go somewhere, and do something. His hands move to the hem of Josh's pants and he tugs at the button impatiently, fidgeting with the zipper like he's done with his own pants every day this week. "I can't wait to jerk you off," he tells Josh, breathless and low. "I've never done this before. This is the first dick I've ever touched," and he palms Josh's bulge, rolling his hand like he knows feels good, leaning in to kiss Josh again.

Josh moans something into his mouth and then keens into his hand, and Mike miraculously finds his way past the zipper and into Josh's underwear to get a good hold on his dick. It's a little weird at first but only because he doesn't get the extra sensation on his own cock, and thankfully once Josh regains his bearings he starts to move his hand on Mike again.

Mike opens his mouth to say something else but ends up biting into Josh's shoulder by accident, and Josh just gasps and gives his dick a sharp tug. Mike, in kind, pulls Josh off a little harder than he usually would, and kisses up to his mouth and everywhere else along the way.

"I'm not gonna last long," Josh warns, and then it's happening before either of them can do anything about it. Mike watches in fascination as Josh comes all over their hands and Mike's stomach. He's struck by a sudden but great idea, and pulls Josh up so his knees are firmly planted on the bed. Before Josh can react at all, Mike then slides between them so he can bend down and lick up some of the come off Josh's dick.

He had a girl do this once to him and it had taken him completely by surprise; his reaction then was nothing compared to Josh's now. Josh's hips stutter forward almost of their own accord and he gasps as Mike sucks the head into his mouth, licking up whatever he can manage and laving his tongue over the rest. "Holy fucking shit, Mike," he hears Josh whisper, almost reverent.

"I wanted to," Mike says, and hears how thick his voice is, and nearly comes on the spot. "To repay you for Hannah's presentation."

Josh laughs, and runs a hand through his hair. Mike would have predicted he'd hate the feeling, but he finds he doesn't mind it at all, and even keeps Josh's dick on his tongue through the aftershocks.

He still hasn't come, but it doesn't feel like a priority until Josh finally notices. He slides down off the bed until they're both sitting on the floor surrounded by piles of laundry, staring at each other softly. Josh moves forward to kiss him again, and it's even better this time; they have a better angle and Josh's hand comes up to lightly pull his hair again. Mike wonders if every time he kisses Josh it's going to be the new best kiss of his life.

"What do you need me to say," Josh mutters, and for a second Mike is confused before he feels a hand on his dick again, and he abruptly remembers the source of this whole problem. "What do you wanna hear?"

"Anything," Mike says, because at this point he'd probably come from Josh reciting hymns. 

Thankfully, Josh doesn't whip out a testament, and instead ducks down to kiss Mike's stomach. It feels a little strange, but there's still a hand working his dick, so Mike can't complain. Josh presses his nose into Mike's treasure trail, and then pulls away to look up at him. "I'm gonna stick your whole dick down my throat, okay?"

Before Mike can say O.K., Josh does just that, and Mike comes the hardest he's ever come in his whole life.

 

 

When he goes back to school, everything goes back to normal, asterisk. He’s still struggling with math, and no matter how much the teacher beseeches him to try harder or how much harder he tries, every assignment still feels insurmountable. Emily offers to tutor him after class, and the look on her face makes it clear he’d be an idiot to say no. He says yes.

In most other subjects, he starts to excel; he doesn’t zone out during half his classes fantasizing about blue eyes, which brings his grade point average up past what even his ma expected. It hasn’t even been a week since his sick day, but he’s sleeping soundly every night and waking up with a smile every morning like he hasn’t in weeks. Mike is relieved to find out that the best cure for wanting is having.

On the third day, he sees Josh walking towards him after gym class, and his mental state of calm evaporates instantly. Mike’s still holding a lacrosse stick in his hands, and he swings it awkwardly back and forth before leaning it against the wall. Again, he could swear he used to be a real casanova.

“Hi,” he tries to say, but the noise comes out strangled in his throat.

Josh, ever the merciful devil, doesn’t confront him about it. “Hey,” he responds, painfully casual. He’s wearing a sweater too long for him. Mike’s fingers curl around the crosse. “How was gym?”

Mike has already forgotten how gym was. “It was good. I gotta go hit the showers, I’m all gross.” He gestures down to himself to display how gross and sweaty he is, ignoring his heart pounding at his ribcage.

Asterisk: Josh’s smile twists a little, and he leans against the wall beside Mike. “Without me?”

 

 

Three minutes later, they can’t take their hands off of each other. Mike’s gym clothes have been abandoned somewhere, haphazardly thrown outside the showers. Water is running over Josh’s shoulders and down his chest, and Mike follows its path down, kissing each rivulet until Josh’s nervous giggling turns breathless.

“I can’t believe you fell for that fuckboy line,” Josh whispers, smoothing his palm over Mike’s upper arm as he scrapes his nails across his back.

“Shut up,” Mike implores him, angling up so he can kiss Josh’s throat.

“You. _Michael Munroe_. The most notorious fuckboy around.”

“Shut up,” and then he kisses Josh to ensure that he does shut up. The water is hot on their skin but there’s a greater heat lingering just beneath his skin, thrumming through his blood. Mike has never been so nervous or excited to fool around with someone. He has the fleeting thought that it’s been too long, and then corrects himself. That’s utterly ridiculous. Three days isn’t long enough to miss anyone this much.

Josh groans into his mouth, and Mike has to pull away so he doesn’t come. He steps back, pressing his nails into his thighs and steeling himself to be better, to last longer. When he opens his eyes, Josh is right where he left him; but his lips are parted as he watches Mike, and he’s got a hand around his dick, stroking gently.

“Fuck,” Mike says, his own dick jumping at the sight. Josh watches, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “ _Fuck_. You’re the worst person on the face of the planet.”

Even like this, Josh is quick to retort, “I’m not the one who gets a boner whenever I joke about taking you under the bleachers.”

“I wish you would drop dead right now.”

“That makes two of us, baby.”

“ _Josh_ ,” Mike growls, so frustrated and hot and infatuated he could scream, and he steps forward to pin Josh against the wall and kiss him again.

 

 

He enters the classroom at the most appropriate time; after the school day ends, but not so late that he would be bothering his teacher. The teacher looks up from her desk where she is grading with a beleaguered expression, but that melts into sympathy the second she recognizes Mike. "Hi, Michael. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah, a lot better," Mike smiles politely, nodding. "I think I just needed some time to rest and heal.”

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I just wanted to come in and say I was sorry, um..." Mike kicks his heel back and forth, awkwardly skirting around names. "I heard that one of my group members was really upset I couldn't make it for our presentation, and I feel bad for letting her down, so I wanted to ask if it would be possible to adjust everyone’s grade so they don't get dragged down because of my absence."

"Oh," the teacher says, a little surprised. "Who? I thought they did an excellent job, and they all said in their self-evaluations it couldn't have gone better." She lifts up one of the papers to show him. "See? 'This presentation could not have gone better'. That's from Hannah W."

"Oh," Mike echoes, trying to make sense out of that. "That makes no sense."

"I think the only person who even noticed you were gone at all was Joshua," the teacher comments. "He made a big fuss out of it, and left as soon as the bell rang."

Josh's words run through Mike's head: _Mike, she was really worried. I don't know if you've cottoned on to this yet, but she's got a thing for you._ The truth of the situation dawns on Mike, and he realizes he's the world's biggest idiot. "Huh." He can feel a smile spreading over his face, but doesn't care enough to suppress it. "Okay. Um. Never mind!"

"See you in class, Michael," the teacher calls after him, but he's already out the door.

 

 

He almost doesn’t catch up to Josh in time; Hannah and Beth are already piling into one of the Washington’s cars when Mike dashes up to them. Beth is the first to notice him, and she waves amiably. “Hi, Mike!”

Hannah’s hair whips around as she turns to look, one foot already in the car. Josh peeks out from the backseat, eyes even wider than usual. Mike swears the three of them could be triplets.

“Hey, Beth,” Mike smiles, and nods. “Han. Um, is there any chance I could talk to Josh? I’ll only be a minute.”

Beth and Hannah exchange a look, and then Hannah nods and slides into the shotgun seat. “He’s all yours,” she says, and Mike doesn’t miss how Beth hides a laugh.

“Thanks,” he mutters, not sure if he should feel elated or bemused by that. He shoves his hands into his pockets and waits for Josh to climb back out of the car. The doors close, and Mike prays Hannah and Beth can’t read lips as Josh stands in front of him, curious and waiting. “Uh. Hi.”

“Hi,” Josh echoes, watching him closely. “Come to apologize to my kid sister?”

“No.” Mike breathes in, unable to stand this any longer. He’s been feeling shame and guilt for weeks because of his own perceived problem, and now that he knows his feelings might be reciprocated, he can’t restrain himself from trying to find out. He steps closer to Josh, and then asks, “How long?

Josh glances back at the car, where Hannah and Beth are openly staring, and then turns around and rocks up onto his toes. “Six and a half, but who’s counting?”

“ _Jesus_.” Mike looks up at the sky, praying for lightning to smite Josh. It’s not a new prayer. “Don’t be modest. I’m sure you’re at least seven inches.”

“I was talking about _your_ dick,” Josh coos, because he is the worst person in the world and has to take every possible opportunity to verify that.

“When _aren’t_ you talking about my dick,” Mike groans, and then places his hands on Josh’s shoulders. “No. Wait. That was rhetorical. How long have you been making these jokes just to get me going?”

Josh’s lips part; it barely lasts a second but it’s a _tell_. He’s been caught. “How long have they worked?”

Mike doesn’t know how to say anything to that so he doesn’t, just leans down and catches Josh’s lips in his. Muffled shrieks from the car don’t deter either of them, and after an uncertain, terrifying beat Josh kisses back. As their kisses go, it’s remarkably chaste; Mike thinks it might be his favourite time yet.

“Have a nice weekend,” he says, pulling away from Josh. Josh doesn’t say anything, just stares at him in wonder and shock, and Mike jogs away with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. For once, Josh is the one left speechless.

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop writing ridiculous and inexcusable Mike/Josh? Doubt it. Thanks for reading! The title is from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pW7W8hbdhX8), and as always I have to thank Parker for being the best cheer-reader. If you have any questions or feedback please leave a comment, or you can find me on tumblr [here](http://montparnasse.tumblr.com/).


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